


Game Night

by Stale_Cinnamon_Roll



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Character Study, Cockblocking, M/M, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:03:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stale_Cinnamon_Roll/pseuds/Stale_Cinnamon_Roll
Summary: With 10k keeping watch as the group rests up for the night, Murphy decides they should play a round of their little game.A short and slightly smutty character study exploring the dynamics of 10k and Murphy's relationship.





	Game Night

10k had the kind of situational awareness that anyone would expect from a hunter who had survived travelling solo for so long in the Zombie Apocalypse. This made it rather odd, then, for someone to attempt to sneak up behind him and take him by surprise. Everyone in the group would know it was useless to even try and so just announce their presence as they approach. Unless it was-

He bit back a sigh as large hands ran slowly down his sides before gripping onto his hips; a heavy warmth pressed against his back and pushed him further into the railing he was leaning on; the ghost of a breath tickled along his neck while lips drifted to his ear. Of course, it was him: no one else would even try.

“Thomas.”

“Murphy.” 10k’s gaze never wavered from his scope, his grip on the rifle remaining relaxed despite the tension bleeding into his muscles. Ignoring the man’s antics always worked well to piss him off, and refusing to cave and give him a reaction – especially at such a petty façade of affection – had quickly become a game to the two men. Plus, he was busy. Murphy may not be in danger from the Zs, but someone had to watch while the rest of the group rested up for the night.

“Creeping on our dear travelling companions again?” Murphy’s voice was a low, gravelly purr as his tongue traced its way along an ear before coaxing the lobe towards dry lips and gently nipping teeth. “Such a naughty boy.”

 So, he was bringing out the big guns tonight. That’s fine. 10k had a lot of ammo.

Coarse hands snaked across the slither of abdomen exposed by the riding up of his shirt, before unfastening trouser buttons with a practiced ease. Blunt nails dug into pale flesh as the offending garment was peeled downward just enough to allow Murphy to slide in a hand to squeeze at the curve of his arse. Rough grip on his jaw tilted his head upwards as two fingers pressed insistently at his lips, demanding entrance.

10k complied. He always does.

“Not creeping,” he muttered around the fingers swirling within his mouth, voice almost deadpan. “Keeping them safe.” His eyes remained fixed on the figures hunched around the campfire, maintaining his vigil without the scope.

10k swallowed a needy whine as the fingers were pulled from his mouth. Can’t give the man the satisfaction of winning so quickly.

“Is that so?” Murphy leaned closer into him, forcing him to bend further over the railing. 10k’s fingers tightened around his rifle like a vice, fighting against the screaming in his brain to release the weapon, to grab onto the railing, to tilt back into the safety of the ledge behind them. His instincts had served him well over the years: what to fight and what to flee; when to give aid and when to pass on by; who to trust and who to betray. The same instinct that told him from day one not to believe the man whispering sweetly into his ear. The instinct he now ignored, hoping that the day would never come when Murphy decided to finally sink his teeth in, to tear out his throat. “Then why are you watching down there? We both know the most dangerous creature in these woods is up on this tower…”

Legs threatening to tremble, 10k focused on keeping his breathing slow and consistent as a thick, spit-slicked finger began to twist its way between his cheeks, to breach the tight ring of muscle, to curl inside and pry him open further. As a second finger pressed in beside the first, Murphy’s other hand clawed into his hair, pulling his head back once more. Teeth scraped along his neck. 10k bit his lip to stifle a moan. He refused to give the other the satisfaction of hearing any lustful cries, but the mouth teasing at his carotid was making it hard to remain silent. Almost as hard as his cock, which was currently trapped painfully against the metal bars of the railing.

“Nothing dangerous here.” His words hung in the air, stagnant: that was a lie and they both knew it. Time to change tactics, 10k decided to concede a slither of ground in hopes of diverting the topic being discussed. This was neither the time nor the place for this conversation, even _if_ he was ready to admit to it. He curved his spine, shifting his hips upwards. “Left a bit.”

The fingers quickly adjusted and hit their mark, scraping along that sweet spot inside him. 10k’s teeth almost drew blood as they sank into his own lip, the pain helping to focus his mind back onto the task that brought him here. And to distract him from the man behind him. Addy was already asleep, while Warren and Vasquez leaned into each other, their words too quiet to reach his ears. Doc slouched close to the campfire, lazily toking on a joint. He had recently redoubled his efforts in getting 10k to join him in smoking some z-weed, almost succeeding in hiding his disappointment when turned down every time. 10k wasn’t sure how to pretend to the old man that it was his first time. Didn’t want to explain that Murphy had already taken that honour. Doc thought him innocent, a little naïve. He wasn’t quite ready to shatter that belief.

A sharp nip at his throat dragged him out of his shameful reverie. “Don’t ignore me when I’m so selflessly doing you a favour. I find it rather rude, actually.” The belligerent growl in his ear made 10k’s cock twitch.

“Then go faster,” he hissed, rolling his hips, grinding his lower back against something much harder, blunter, more satisfying than the fingers buried inside of him.

A voice drifting from below stilled both their movements, bodies tense as their ears strained to discern any meaning from the noise, 10k raising his rifle once more. Sharp eyes refocusing on their travelling companions, he watched as Vasquez unfurled from his position near the campfire to gaze along the treeline.

Pulling his fingers free, Murphy dug blunt nails into trembling thighs as he harshly ground his clothed erection between 10k’s cheeks. “It’s been a while since you pointed your little toy at me, you know. Haven’t even threatened to kill me. I’m starting to feel ignored. Neglected, even.”

It was time to bring their game to a close. 10k pouted. “You can always sit by the fire while I play with someone else.”

A hand once more twisted sharply into his hair, jerking his head to the side. Teeth clamped onto his neck, jaw trembling with the desire to press in deeper, to pierce the skin. The strangled cry at his ear, animalistic and possessive, spread a smirk across 10k’s face, lulled his eyes closed. He had won this round. All that was left was to claim his-

A metallic clink had his eyes snapping open, gaze cast downward.

There.

Below.

On the ladder.

“Vasquez.” He twisted out of Murphy’s grip, nodding towards the man below while hastily rebuttoning his trousers.

“Fuck. Fuck!” The other man all but sobbed as he hastily readjusted 10k’s scarf, trying to hide the red teeth marks that peppered pale skin. “I’m going to feed him to the next Zs we see. That cock blocking bastard!”

**Author's Note:**

> It has been many years since my last foray into fanfics, but these two just begged me to get back into the game. This fic was a little warm up for a major series that is currently being planned and written. Let me know what you think, and I'll try my best to start uploading the actual series in the next few weeks.


End file.
